


The Whole Kitten Kaboodle

by Anthropedia



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura is super cool, Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, But its not all sad things this time, Fun and shenanigans and confused people all over the place, Lance (Voltron) Has ADHD, Lance is an unreliable narrator about some things, Mentions of self harm and suicide attempts later on, The character death warning is only because theres a ghost, Voltron is an animal hospital and shelter, hence the mature rating, lance can see ghosts, usually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-04 19:24:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11561727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anthropedia/pseuds/Anthropedia
Summary: It had been a normal day. That is, until Lance's walk home got ruined by accidentally walking through a stranger.Wait.What.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go, a new adventure! I've been nursing this idea for a good while, but I'd been busy trying to write some original stuff. I'm kinda stuck with that stuff now, and haven't been very happy with what I've put out. So let's see how this goes!

It had just been a typical day.

Despite Lance’s best attempts to be helpful, Voltron Animal Rehabilitation and General Care Agency (or VARGA, as Lance called it) had survived another day of welcoming incoming patients, caring for their current residents, and facilitating adoptions. He’d only let five kittens escape from the Kitty Quarters, and had managed to mess things up/make a nuisance of himself only a handful of times. Lance waved goodbye to his friends and started the trek back to his apartment from work. In the past, he would have caught a ride with Allura, his neighbor and boss. But she’d wanted to get some errands done today and Lance didn’t want to bother her any more than necessary.

Don’t get the wrong idea, Lance adored Allura to no end. In the year since Lance had moved into the apartment beside her, his beautiful, gracious, kind neighbor had become like a sister to him. Even after he’d made an utter fool of himself by asking her out. But she had taken him and his antics in stride. Becoming his lifesaver by offering him this job, when he’d suddenly found himself out of money.

Despite only being a couple years older than Lance, she had her life together like no one else he knew. She had two master’s degrees, had achieved her dream of owning her own animal hospital and shelter, and had become the honorary mom of his friend group, as Pidge and Hunk adored her almost as much as Lance. She’d even let them work at VARGA part time as well. But he wasn’t a fan of taking favors. And lately he’d been more of a hinderance than a help. Contrary to whatever Allura tried to assure him. 

To be fair, he knew he was being harder on himself than necessary. The customers and patients still adored him, and he really was improving. It’s just that he was still re-adjusting to being off his ADHD meds. And while he hadn’t gotten fired yet, it wasn’t going as smoothly as he would have liked. It was incredibly frustrating.

Just how different it was off his meds compared to on was a relatively new revelation, considering he only recently rediscovered what it was like to be off them after his first year on his own. Now that he was paying for everything on his own, and was a broke college student, he’d decided to ration his meds on a need by need basis in attempt to save money. 

He’d thought it a genius idea. The more he saves his meds for studying, taking exams, working on big projects, and the like; the longer he can last between refills. 

After the third quarter of the school year, when he’d tried to get off them all together; his friends and professors weren’t so sure. Needless to say, it hadn’t gone well, but he’d given in and started back up just in time for exams and was able to save his grades. 

Now that summer had started, however, Lance decided to go back to conserving them. It’s not like he had any grades to worry about, and so far, things hadn’t been TOO much more difficult at work.

But the going back and forth had lead to some interesting, at least to him, discoveries regarding his own mind. It’s a seesaw, he decided as he walked; inspiration coming from a playground he passed by. On one end sat clarity and focus. On the other end, vibrancy and passion. 

When he’s on his meds, the world is solid. His mind functions in predictable, reasonable ways and things tend to make sense. He can hold onto his thoughts and has the time and ability to piece them together and build on them. He can see the path his thoughts need to take and he can follow it to its destination. His mind doesn’t run away with his thoughts like an overexcited puppy dragging its leashed owner after a butterfly. It is a well trained dog that guards him against unwanted distractions, such as unnecessary emotions and curiosities, whether good or bad. It’s as if, more than helping him focus, the medication sucks the colors, sounds, and energy from life ever so slightly. Dimming the universe down until it’s just not interesting enough to distract him from what he needs to accomplish.

When he’s off his meds, however, the world is bright and colorful and loud. Everything is busy and everything is demanding his attention all at once. It can be very fun, or it can be overwhelming, but it feels like the world is one giant playground made of clouds of every color, shape and size imaginable. He sees, hears, and feels everything that goes on around him, good or bad. His mind puppy is free to chase down every thought that breezes by. But like clouds, as solid and still as they might appear from far away, his thoughts are in constant motion, shifting and changing, feeling almost impossible to grasp for any length of time.

Until now, he’d never been off his meds for long enough to really notice the difference. And he wasn’t sure which version he liked better. Anymore, his opinion of them felt more like a love-hate relationship than anything else.

He was just contemplating what color might go with each emotion when he’s suddenly pulled out of his thoughts by walking through a stranger.

As in, actually passing through a stranger who’d been standing there on the sidewalk.

As he did so, a freezing shiver ran up his spine, radiating out across his body. Tingling as it went, as if his whole body had suddenly fallen asleep, or he’d just been static shocked from all directions at once.

“Eugh. Again? Seriously, people!” Lance heard said stranger exclaim, his voice irritated and impatient. Apparently more annoyed than alarmed by what had just occurred.

“What the...” Lance heard himself murmur, whipping back around to look at the stranger.

The guy he’d just passed through was wearing black boots with red and white accents, black skinny jeans, and a tight black t-shirt under a red jacket that looked either too small or too big, depending on whether Lance was going by the too short waist that didn’t quite cover his torso or the too long sleeves that had been rolled up to expose the black fingerless gloves on his hands. His hair was black and looked like it might have once been cut in an almost acceptable, punk rock style before it had grown out into a mullet. His hip was cocked and his arms were crossed; in annoyance judging by the glare he was giving Lance.

He looked plenty solid. Contrary to what Lance’s still shaky, tingling body was telling him. Yet there was something about the sight of him that was just...off. It kind felt like he was hard to look at. Lance almost had to fight to keep his gaze from drifting away. And when it inevitably did, Lance noticed that everyone else’s gaze seemed to do the same. Just skip over the guy as if they couldn’t see him, or like they didn’t want to see him. Lance seemed to be the only one who had even noticed him at all.

But more than that, there was something about him, about this whole thing, really, that Lance could swear was familiar. Like he’d stumbled across (or maybe through) this guy before when he was really little...

“Do I know you?” Lanced asked the guy as his mind ran in circles, sniffing around for any useful recollection.

The guy looked stunned and took a moment before responding. But Lance hardly noticed the change in expression as his mind puppy was busy digging up treasure buried in the recesses of his memory. Forgotten events over a decade old. Pulling up bits and pieces of recollections one at a time. He could almost see a pattern in the puzzle pieces. He could almost remember why the guy felt so familiar. He’d been in situations like this before. The encounters were always the same. That feeling of icy static shock... No one else ever saw them… And they always started with the same weird question…

“Can you see me?” The guy asked, his stunned glare turning guarded and confused.

Everything clicked.

Lance remembered. His impossible friends. The sad people everyone else knew weren’t real.

An involuntary gasp slipped past his lips before he took off running. Weaving in and out of people’s way as he tried to put distance between himself and the strange guy who couldn’t be what Lance was scared he must be.

As he ran, his mind chanted three words over and over again. But what those word were didn’t register until he’d made it to his apartment, his breath returning enough for his mouth to take up the mantra as he fumbled around his pockets for his keys.

“Ghosts aren’t real. Ghosts aren’t real. Ghosts aren’t-” He whispered to himself.

“You keep telling yourself that.” A voice, the same voice from before, spoke; perfectly calm and unwinded, just slightly amused.

With a completely undignified yelp, Lance launched himself all five steps across the narrow hall. Where Lance could have sworn there had just been empty space, the guy from the sidewalk was suddenly there. Just there. Arms still crossed with his back now resting against the wall beside Lance’s door. One leg supporting him while the other was casually crossed, shin resting against knee. As if he’d been there all along.

The guy only gave Lance’s dramatic reaction a small smirk before pushing up from the wall, eyes boring into Lance, his smirk falling into a look of genuine curiosity.

“You really can see me, can’t you?” He murmured, seemingly more to himself than Lance, as he swayed from side to side, watching Lance’s eyes follow him.

When he didn’t continue, Lance realized he must actually be waiting for a response.

He nodded, but what came out when he opened his mouth wasn’t so much a confirmation as his own fear.

“You’re a ghost.” It sounded dumb, even to himself. Either Lance was wrong, this guy was nothing more than some weirdo and Lance just outed himself as crazy; or this guy actually was a ghost and Lance just outed himself as an idiot for stating the obvious.

The guy snorted. Actually snorted in laughter at that. The jerk.

“So it would seem.” He chuckled, his hands finally uncrossing to gesture down at himself.

“But ghosts aren’t real.” Lance reiterated, his mind still reeling.

“Yeah, that’s what I’d thought. And yet, here we are.” The guy said, his arms finding their way back into their crossed position. He didn’t sound like he was intentionally being a jerk, but the way he couldn’t quite control his smirk at Lance’s expense and the sarcastic, almost bitter tone his voice constantly rang with left little doubt what he seemed to think of Lance.

“Uhm...Right…” Lance said, his annoyance with the guy’s condescending, nonchalant attitude helping him move past the fear and disbelief. “Well, nice to meet you, Casper. I’ve got living people things to deal with. Like eating and sleeping and forgetting all about this before I actually go insane.” He walked around the ghost this time. Giving him a wider berth than strictly necessary.

“Wait! Please!” The ghost boy shouted, seeming to forget he was supposed to be all cool and shit. The desperation in his voice surprised Lance enough that he looked back against his better judgment, key momentarily forgotten in the lock.

The other guy seemed to be equally as surprised by his outburst. He readjusted his popped white collar, rubbing his gloved hand against the back of his neck before clearing his throat and continuing, “I mean, you’re the first person to see me. It’s been weeks and I’ve just been stuck…”  His voice was under better control this time, but the plea in his words still struck Lance like a blow to the gut.

The guy’s words had faded to a grumble, his face, now glaring down at his boots, showing shame and fear warring for dominance with annoyance and frustration.

Dammit. Lance couldn’t just leave him like this. Not that there was anything Lance could do to help, but still. The guy needed somebody, that much was obvious. And Lance was, in fact a somebody. A pretty useless somebody, but a somebody nonetheless.

“Alright.” He sighed, earning a look of shock from the other guy as his head shot up to look at Lance. But before either of them could say anything, a response came from down the hall.

“Sorry,” Allura called to him through gritted teeth, her purse hanging from her mouth before she sat her grocery haul down and started rummaging through her purse for her keys. “I didn’t hear you. Did you need something?”

Right. People. Normal people. People who couldn’t see the other dude.

“Oh nothing! Sorry! Lock’s just being difficult again!” That seemed to do the trick as Allura just nodded understandingly and gave him a wave before unlocking her door, scooping up her groceries, and heading into her apartment, kicking the door closed behind her.

For his part, ghost boy seemed to have hardly noticed Lance’s exchange with his neighbor. He was still looking at Lance in disbelief, leading Lance to wonder why the guy had bothered asking at all if he’d been so certain Lance would turn him down. But he just shrugged it off. The guy was a ghost. Any contradictory behavior and apparent trust issues were probably the most normal part about him thus far.

“I don’t know what help I could possibly be, but why not. Come on in. Make yourself at home, my friend. Just don’t mess with anything. The name’s Lance. What’s yours?” He said, finally turning the key in the lock, opening the door and stepping across the threshold, bowing deeply in a gesture of welcoming the stranger through the door.

The ghost scoffed and rolled his eyes but Lance saw the hint of a smile as he followed him in. 

But the smile dropped immediately at the last question.

“I...don’t know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lance is waay too hard on himself.  
> And my apologies if the thoughts on ADHD and his meds seem oddly specific. They're based off my experiences with my own ADHD and attempts to get off my meds. Which is where I got the idea behind this to begin with.
> 
> Anyway! I really really really hope you enjoyed this first chapter! Lemme know your thoughts!?


	2. Chapter 2

“I… don’t know.” The ghost said to his boots, his voice once again donning an air of fear and unease.

To be honest, the guy just looked so vulnerable, Lance felt sorry for him.

“No biggie,” Lance said, as casually as he could “I’ll come up with something. I never call friends by their real names anyway. My nicknames are sooo much better.” It was true, at least.

A flash of surprise darted across the guy’s face at Lance’s casual insinuation of friendship, before he rolled his eyes. Apparently not impressed with Lance’s self-proclaimed abilities. 

Lance just scoffed in mock offence, launching into a detailed explanation of how he’d been the one to christen his best friends with the names Hunk and Pidge. Explaining exactly how he’d chosen each name and that they worked so well, his friends never went by their real names anymore. In reality, though, Lance knew he was just rambling to cover up his own discomfort. He found it painfully unnerving that this guy didn’t even know his own name.

“So… what  _ do _ you know?” Lance asked, busying himself by running around, haphazardly trying to tidy up his apartment. It’s not that he was a slob, he knew how to clean up nice, really. But he lived by himself, and when he wasn’t at school, he had a full time job and a social life. Stuff just tended to accumulate. And besides. He hadn’t exactly expected to bring anyone home from work.

“Well...nothing...I just kind of woke up...” The guy said, seemingly distracted from his moment of self pity by Lance rushing back and forth across the living room with a load of clean laundry in one hand, a small stack of dirty dishes balanced in the other, and his glasses dangling from his mouth by their frames (for things he never wore outside the apartment, they sure wound up in random places).

“Need some help?” The guy asked. His smirk back in full force.

“ _ Can  _ you help? You’re not exactly solid, as I clearly proved earlier.” Lance retorted.

The guy just gave an annoyed huff before reaching out and taking Lance’s plates from him, albeit with a slight look of concentration on his face, as if it took some focus. To Lance’s surprise, not only was he successful, but Lance could actually feel the guy’s hands when they bumped against his. They weren’t quite solid, but he could clearly feel them. It felt kind of like when you try to push two refrigerator magnets together and they repel each other as if almost bouncing off something, if only that something were ice cold. While there wasn’t really any distinct line, and if he wanted to, he was sure he’d go right through the other boy again, the guy felt absolutely there and so nearly tangible it made Lance’s skin crawl.

“...Sorry.” The guy mumbled as he took ahold of the plates, noticing how Lance had winced away from the touch.

“Nah man, no worries. Really. That’s a pretty nifty trick, though. If I couldn’t see you, I’d totally  be freaking out right about now.” This earned Lance a small chuckle.

So together they tidied up Lance’s apartment while Lance rambled on about everything from his friends to his family back home, to his sociology major and swim team scholarship. The other guy didn’t have much to add to the conversation, which made Lance sad, but was fair. He was a good listener, though. Despite how he always seemed to be on the verge of either telling Lance to shut up or making fun of him, he asked all the right questions and laughed (or, well, chuckled) in all the right places.

Once they were done and the main living space and kitchen looked somewhat presentable, Lance gave him a quick tour of his castle. The kitchen was...modest. But it did it’s job. It had just enough space for two people to carefully maneuver around a small oven whose metal stovetop burners had seen better days, a small sink with an equally unimpressive microwave above it, a refrigerator that let out a loud clack every time it opened, and a countertop that looked into the livingroom. A door on the far side of the kitchen lead to a small pantry and storage area. Inside there was a singular wall of shelves that actually held some opened boxes of dry food and snacks, a small, ancient stacked washer/dryer set, and boxes of Lance’s stuff he never bothered to unpack.

The living room boasted a card table, currently covered with newly organized schoolwork clutter and an unfinished puzzle, shoved against the big window across from the entrance. There were three stools that Lance originally got with the table, but were now acting as end tables for the full-sized futon and two bean bag chairs taking up most of the floorspace. All of which were facing a bookshelf repurposed to hold a small tv on top, a game console and VCR (which actually still worked, as Lance was proud to tell his guest) on the first shelf, a collection of controllers, games, DVDs, and VHS tapes entirely filling the second, and a precarious wall of various board and card games stuffed into the bottom.

The small hallway across from the kitchen had just enough room for three doors. To the left was the door to Lance’s room, which he only opened for a second. Not having cleaned it in forever. Besides. It was his private space. Directly across from his room was the bathroom, and between them, at the very end of the hall was the door to Allura’s apartment, as Lance explained to the other boy. Lance had discovered that the two apartments had originally been one big one when curiosity about the extra door had gotten the better of him and his friends, leading Pidge to convince Hunk to help Lance pick the lock. Only to discover Allura’s apartment on the other side.

Allura hadn’t been too happy about the sudden intrusion, but it had proven very useful when Lance threw parties. Turns out, Allura was nearly as much a party animal as Lance.

Truth be told, Lance was proud of his little apartment. It had taken all of last year, but at this point, it really felt like home.

Lance was in the middle of recounting the tale of a game night gone awry (Allura made the mistake of challenging Pidge to a game of poker, bringing an alarmingly large bag of seashells over from her apartment to act as money...Lance was finding sand in his underwear for a WEEK after that night) when his phone buzzed in his pocket, pulling another undignified yelp out of him.

At least, this time ghost boy was startled too, judging by the backwards step he took into the wall.

If it weren’t for the disgruntled pout on the guy’s face as he realized he was now halfway inside a wall, it probably would have been more freaky than funny. But as the ghost took one sour look at Lance before stomping back into the living room, away from any walls, Lance couldn’t help but laugh as he checked his phone.

 

Pidge:

Hey. You ready for us? Cause we’re on our way over with food.

 

Lance had completely forgotten. It was Friday night. Sleepover night.

“Uh..Mullet,” Lance called. Testing out his selected nickname for the guy. “So running into...through you...made me completely forget. Pidge and Hunk are coming over for the night.”

Mullet’s face fell immediately. He must have zero clue how expressive his face is. What had just been a glare of annoyance at the nickname dropped into a crestfallen pout in two seconds flat. That just wasn’t fair. He’d only just met Lance and he was giving him puppy dog eyes. Lance’s weakness! Lance shuddered internally to think of the damage that would occur if the guy ever realized the power he could wield. Pidge alone was bad enough. At least Hunk had the decency to save puppy pouts as a last resort…

But there was a more pressing issue at hand. He couldn’t just shoo Mullet away. That wouldn’t be fair. But he couldn’t exactly introduce him to his friends either… They didn’t need any more reason to think Lance was coocoo for Coco Puffs.

“Oh. Well...then I could just leave you be?” Mullet asked with a shrug, voice casual, but failing to meet Lance’s eyes. Clearly not liking the idea of being alone again so soon but liking the idea of Lance noticing he was hurt even less.

“What? Naw, man! I don’t mind you hanging around. We’re not going to do any secret rituals or anything. It’s just that they won’t see or hear you, and I’d rather not give them any more reason to send me to the Funny Farm. So just don’t do anything rash and I’ll avoid you while they’re around. If that’s fine with you?” Sure it was a shitty idea. Shitty both to ignore Mullet and to allow someone to spy on his friends like that. But aside from asking Mullet to make a fool of himself by putting on some paranormal freak show, Lance didn’t really see another option.

“Yeah. That’s fine. Business as usual for me. I’ll make myself scarce.” Mullet said.

They both nodded.

 

_ Lance: _

_ Yup. Totally psyched. See you in a few! _

 

No sooner had he sent it than there was a knock on his door. Of course Pidge hadn’t texted Lance until they were already there. Why would he have ever expected anything different.

At least Hunk had the decency to knock.

Instead of bothering to walk all the way across the living room, Lance just shouted for them to come in.

It was amazing just how much time Lance could spend with Hunk and Pidge without any of them growing tired of each other. Sure he’d just spent the entire afternoon with them at work, yet seeing them come in, Lance could feel himself getting excited, gearing up for another night of cartoons, food, and shenanigans.

As soon as they made it into the room, loaded down with enough food to surely feed at least two nuclear families for a week, Lance heard his secret guest mumble “Hunk and Pidge... I get it.” And it was all Lance could do not to crack up.

Of course Mullet immediately knew who was who. All it took was one look at the big, muscled teddybear and the small, birdlike gremlin beside him to know why Lance had named them Hunk and Pidge.

Lance apparently hadn’t hidden his mirth entirely, however, as the first words out of Pidge’s mouth were “Oh no. What did you do?”

“What!?” Lance exclaimed, appropriately offended as he directed his mind puppy back to his friends. “Can’t a guy be happy to see his best friends?”

“Of course he can,” Hunk came to Lance’s rescue, already in the kitchen. “Now come on you two, time to start earning your keep.”

Which, in Hunk speak, meant come help me prep ingredients for the veritable feast I’m about to prepare for you. For, the most helpful assistant gets to lick the bowl while the other only gets the meager spoon.

So, needless to say, Lance very quickly forgot about Mullet’s presence as he jostled with Pidge to the kitchen. Mullet must have kept his word and wasn’t going out of his way to be in Lance’s field of vision.

After Hunk sweet talked Lance’s oven into working correctly, it only took the three of them a little over an hour before the final timer rang on the oven, and a beautiful homemade, deep dish pizza was cooling on the counter while a gigantic bowl of chocolate mousse chilled in the fridge.

Pidge, who was pouting because Lance got the bowl again, had almost entirely disappeared in their favorite beanbag chair, messing around on their phone.

“Looks like we might be in for a storm.” They called out, around the giant wooden spoon sticking out of their mouth.

“Great!” Lance cheered. He loved everything about storms. The energy that came with them, the beauty of the lightning and the anticipation of the thunder. It was all exhilarating. 

As soon as the word left his mouth, though, he regretted it. Turning to Hunk just in time to watch the end of his friend’s facial transformation from glowing to slightly sick. Hunk was NOT a fan of storms.

“I mean,” Lance said, backtracking and trying to come up with a way to calm his friend. No worries! They’re never bad around here. Besides. We probably won’t hear a thing over the music! I just found this new band you’re gonna love!”

To Hunk’s credit, he swallowed his fear and nodded grimly to Lance, trying to smile. Lance felt bad. He knew it didn’t matter what he said, Hunk would still be uncomfortable. But at this point, it was better to stay put than risk getting caught in it.

So Lance took that as permission to continue, sacrificed his phone to the speaker gods, put on his newest playlist, turning it up as loud as he dared, and began pulling out their games.

They had made it all the way through dinner, and two board games, before they even heard the first rumble of thunder.

Lance heard it first. It startled him, but he’d been catching sight of Mullet silently smirking at him so often, that the other two had long since started ignoring his starts, and hadn’t thought anything of it. Until its rumble got loud enough for them to hear.

Hunk grimaced ever so slightly, and Pidge’s eyes shot straight to the window (and through Mullet, which was awkward for both Mullet and Lance).

Then, with a second clap of thunder, everything went silent and dark.

Not that anyone else outside of the apartment ever needed to know, but the next minute and a half was slight chaos. Hunk had jumped straight to his feet, which was a pretty big exertion for a guy his size, completely capsizing their Jenga tower. Pidge had tried to race to the window, but got tangled with Lance who had tried to reach out to Hunk.

Eventually, they got themselves untangled. The storm dying away, as if that last clap had been the end of it. But as Hunk began to calm down, it was Lance’s turn to start panicking. He wasn’t proud of it, but he didn’t do the dark.

Lance immediately called for his friends to get their phones, but Hunk said he’d left his in the car, Pidge started cursing the beanbag chair for swallowing theirs, and Lance must have left his in his room at some point.

The sudden lack of sound in the room didn’t help Lance’s panic. He could hear his blood pumping in his ears and feel his hands start to shake as his eyes, as wide as they could go, peered desperately around the room. He could just barely make out the shapes of the others, and his furniture, but it wasn’t good enough.

Until he remembered the drawer of candles in his kitchen. His apartment didn’t allow for candles, but the way Lance saw it, their aroma was worth the risk.

So he clamored his way into the kitchen, tripping over at least three feet along the way. Yanking open the drawer, he stuck both hands inside, until he found a decently large candle and a lighter. He could see just how much his hands were shaking by the quivering flame, but as soon as he flicked the lighter on, his friends had calmed down. He could hear them walking carefully towards his ball of light.

He didn’t pause for dramatic effect, though. He needed more light. Now. So he quickly lit the candle and shoved it over to the closest pair of hands he saw.

He almost didn’t catch how it fell straight through and almost hit the floor flame first before they caught it again. He’d already turned his attention to the other candles after all. Almost. The commotion earned a quick doubletake. Fear for his carpet momentarily outweighing the looming darkness. 

Only then did Lance notice their fingerless gloves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay Hunk and Pidge! Don't worry, we'll see more of them. And I'm sorry this story's taking so long to really pick up. But it will eventually. I promise. More excitement is to come. Just gotta get there, first. Anyway! Thanks for reading! Please lemme know what ya think!


	3. Chapter 3

“Uhh…” Mullet’s voice rang in Lance’s ears, from the same direction as the gloved hands.

“What. The. Hell…” Pidge’s voice muttered from Lance’s other side. A completely deadpan monotone.

“H-How are you doing that?” Asked Hunk’s voice, directly in front of him.

Well, shit. Lance was screwed for sure. But to be entirely honest, Lance couldn’t bring himself to freak out as much as he probably should. Not until there was more light, anyway. So instead of doing the smart thing and coming up with an explanation for the candle, or comforting any of the others, Lance set about lighting as many candles as he could.

No one said a word as he worked.

Finally, with the counter covered in flickering flames, and a candle in every person’s possession, Lance finally looked up to his friend’s faces.

Hunk was staring bemusedly at what Lance assumed looked like a floating candle. Mullet was staring at Lance, as if waiting for divine intervention. And Pidge was staring disbelievingly...at Mullet’s face.

His supposedly invisible face.

But then Hunk, angel that he is, seemed to snap back to reality in record time, before turning to Lance, his hand that wasn't filled with candle, slightly raised as if asking a question, and calmly stating “Uhm, Lance. Your candle’s floating.”

Lance really was about to come up with something to explain it away. Like, trick candles or strings or something.

He really was.

But then Pidge beat him to it.

“It’s not floating! Look closely! You can see hands! And a face!”

Before Lance could process their words, they had crossed behind him and were now assessing Mullet. Standing on their toes, hand waving in his face.

“Uhm...Lance?” Mullet asked, leaning away from the sudden intrusion into his personal space.

But he didn't get a chance to back away very far before Hunk had closed in on his other side.

“I see it! Did it just say something? I think he just said something. Did you just say something? Hello? Can you hear me? Are you a ghost?” Hunk’s rapid fire questions pelted both Lance and Mullet like bullets.

Mullet looked like he was about to bolt through the wall, taking his candle with him, if necessary.

“I SEE DEAD PEOPLE!” Lance shouted in attempt to get his friend's attention.

Well, that's one way to admit your secret.

When they turned to look at him, there was none of the disbelief and annoyance he would have expected. 

Hunk looked like a little kid on Halloween. The perfect mix of fear and excitement playing across his face. Pidge seemed to share Hunk’s excitement. Though the fear on the big guy’s face had been replaced by a kind of curiosity that made Lance feel more like a new puzzle than a human being who had known Pidge for years.

“You're not kidding?” Hunk asked, shuffling back from Mullet a bit.

“I can see ghosts.” Lance started to affirm, before feeling the need to clarify his statement, under his friend’s scrutiny.  “Apparently. Sometimes. And the one you're currently smothering is my new friend, Mullet. Mullet, meet Hunk and Pidge. Now, why don't we move these lovely candles I've prepared into the living room?” Lance was beginning to feel trapped within his small kitchen. Being blocked in on all sides by either his friends, the glowing counter, or the wall of darkness where the light from the candles couldn’t reach.

So, without waiting for confirmation, Lance grabbed as many candles as he dared, and, weaving through the others,  marched toward the living room. 

Thankfully, they all did as told. Even Mullet.

A few trips between the kitchen and the living room later found Lance and Hunk seated within a large puddle of flickering light, ringed by candles. Pidge, who had figured out that themself and Hunk could only see Mullet reflected in the dim light of the candle flames, was busy creating a smaller, densely packed personal ring for Mullet to sit in.

As they worked, Lance recounted his entire evening, explaining everything he knew about Mullet, with Mullet himself correcting Lance whenever Lance’s depictions apparently deviated from his own recollection of the day.

Hunk and Pidge had listened intently throughout his story. Once he was done, Pidge took up the torch, their mind working in overtime as they bounced questions off of everyone in the room, Mullet and themself included.

Maybe it was because of the new, seance-y decor, or because he was just now calming down from all the excitement. Or maybe knowing Hunk and Pidge knew about Mullet just made it all the more real. But for the first time, it really hit Lance that his new friend, who was nervously nodding at Pidge’s rambling questions, as amusing and awkward as he was, was dead.

Like.

Not just some weird magically invisible guy.

He had died. Probably not that long ago, judging by his clothes. And he had died young. He looked like he couldn't be much older than Lance. It just seemed so unnatural. So wrong. So unfair. So...

He must have been making a face, because when Mullet, still unused to all this new attention, but having resigned himself to this new arrangement, looked at him; his face fell into a concerned pout, too.

Pidge, who had moved on from questions to a continuous stream of theories as they worked, looked up to see Mullet mirroring Lance, and followed his gaze.

“You okay, Lance?” they asked.

“Yeah. Just thinking!” he said, shaking himself out of his stupor and stretching out, allowing his head to rest on Hunks knee. “So anyway. I'm curious. What does Mullet look like to you? Cause to me he just looks like your average punk band escapee.”

That earned him a flip of the bird from Mullet and an eyeroll from Pidge.

“Well,” Hunk piped up. “Mullet... do you mind if I call you that too? Just until Pidge and I can get our hands on a computer and figure out your name and stuff.”

Mullet’ s begrudging nod had to be one of Lance's proudest moments to date.

“Cool,” Hunk continued. “It's like, I can see where the light from the candles reflects off you. But that's it. So you look really cool and ghostly. Which I guess is fitting.”

Pidge, who had settled down far enough from Mullet to admire their handiwork, nodded their agreement to Hunk’s description as Mullet avoided eye contact and opted to intently study his own body as if trying to imagine what he must look like to the others.

“Actually, he looks kinda like this kid I used to know when I was little. I’ve told you about him before. He was my first friend when we moved to the state.” Pidge added, before shaking their head and chuckling. “Wow. I haven't thought about Keith in forever.”

Lance thought the comparison odd. Pidge wasn’t exactly the most open person ever. Not that they were secretive, perse. But they weren’t exactly one to throw out random anecdotes from their past. Hunk didn’t seem to think it odd, though. Just nodded and smiled at Pidge’s recollection.

Mullet, however, brought Lance entirely out of his thoughts.

At the name, his head had snapped up, eyes wide, darting between Lance and Pidge.

“That's me!” He gaped.

“What’s you?” Lance asked.

“I’m Keith!” Mullet yelled.

“You're Keith?!” Lance shrieked back, sitting up with a start. Wait, did that mean Pidge knew him?

“Who’s Keith?” Hunk chimed in.

“I knew it!” Cheered Pidge, before the same realization Lance had come to earlier seemed to hit them full force. Wiping the smile off their face as they stared at the ghost of their old friend.

“But if you're dead... That means- oh no your brother! Is he dead too?!” Pidge’s questions turned their voice from a cheer to a gasp, before ending in a shout.

“I don't know...look, I don't remember anything. I don’t even know if I had a brother! Lance please. Tell them I don't know anything!” the fear in Mull-Keith’s voice rose with his volume.

“Pidge! Pidge, he doesn't know. He doesn't remember anything. He might not even be the same Keith you knew.” Lance interrupted both breathless shouts.

But Pidge, who had tackled the bean bag chair and was now digging through it in search of their phone, was apparently certain.

“Your shoulder.” They called out from the depths of the chair, not even bothering to look up. “On your left side. You were trying to climb onto my roof when you fell. You landed on your shoulder and your collarbone snapped. There was so much blood, it had to have scarred… hah!”

As Pidge climbed back out, phone in hand, Lance hopped to his feet and made a B-line for Keith, who was pulling the neck of his shirt over, revealing a jagged, white, semicircular scar right where Pidge had said, framing the ball of his shoulder.

Well, that was proof enough for Lance. And by the look on Keith’s face, it was enough for him as well.

Keith stared at Pidge, brows furrowed in concentration. Probably trying to remember them.

He looked like he was just about to say something when Hunk called for a timeout. He hefted himself up and dashed out the door with a quick “Be right back.”

True to his word, Hunk was back before any of them had really come up with anything to say, his computer in tow.

“Here,” he said, turning it on and bringing up Word before pushing it toward Keith. “Use this. You can type what you want to say on here. That way you don't need an interpreter.”

As Keith leaned toward it, Hunk and Pidge both gasped.

“Dude! Your face! It's gone!” Pidge yelped.

“It’s like the light from the computer is too bright and washed it out. Weeeiird.” Hunk added with a laugh.

But with an exasperated eyeroll, Keith focused on the keyboard. Carefully resting his fingers on the keys as he began to type. Quickly tapping out a line as Lance, Hunk, and Pidge gathered around behind him to watch. Pidge seated behind Keith, looking directly through him to the screen, making Lance chuckle to himself. Though if either of them thought it weird, they didn’t say anything.

_ You said I had a brother. What was his name? _

Lance was surprised to see Pidge suddenly look unsure. It was not a look he was particularly used to seeing on his friend’s face.

“I can’t remember. Sorry.” They said to their hands fidgeting in their lap. “I was only really friends with Kei...with you. Matt was the one who was closer to your brother. And we had only lived there for a couple years before your family moved away. I don’t know where. I just remember it was right before my seventh birthday.”

Keith frowned, but whether it was in disappointment or in concentration, Lance couldn’t tell. He erased his question before typing something else all together.

_ But I fell off a roof? _

“Heh. Yeah. You had spent the night. We were going to sneak out to catch a meteor shower. But you didn’t wait for me to grab my flashlight before you went to climb down. You misjudged how much space you had and you stepped right off. It was hilarious...no offence.” Pidge snickered. Their amusement only slightly marred by their apparent lingering guilt.

Lance cracked up at that. “Hah! And they say I’m clumsy! “ Lance crowed.

Keith’s fingers raced over the keys. Suddenly excited and in a rush.

_ My whole arm was in a cast. It was red! I remember that night!!  _ _ But that wasn’t you? My friend was _

“You knew me as Katie.” Pidge quickly interrupted, growling their distaste for the name before clearing their throat. “But I’m Pidge now.”

“Pidge suits them perfectly, anyway!” Hunk declared, patting Pidge on the back. 

Lance nodded, over exaggerating the motion of puffing out his chest in pride “It has to. I’m the one who named them Pidge, after all!! Besides! That’s not important right now! You say you remember all that, Keith-y boy?”

Keith grunted at that.

_ Kind of?  _ He typed, before pausing a moment to collect his thoughts.  _ I remember Pidge’s room was painted lime green. And my cast was bright red. I vaguely remember us shouting at someone about aliens…? _

At that, Pidge cracked up. All trace of their previous discomfort erased. They launched into stories about how Keith and Pidge had stumbled upon an alien conspiracy show one time and had determined that it must be true. They had spent the better part of a year trying to prove aliens existed. They had even thrown an alien themed party for Keith’s eighth birthday.

At some point, the lights had turned back on, once again turning Keith all but invisible to Lance’s friends, but he continued to type out his responses and intermittent additions to Pidge’s stories until Hunk had fallen asleep.

Pidge soon followed, curling up into the bean bag chair after using Hunk’s computer and Lance’s newly returned internet to email their brother asking for any more information about their childhood friends.

Lance and Keith went around collecting the candles, an awkward silence between them now.

Well, awkward for Lance, anyway. Keith seemed to be lost in his thoughts and the few disjointed memories circulating within his ghostly head. It seemed like the only reason he remembered what he had so far was because Pidge happened to be able to jog the memories having to do with them thanks to their familiar face and stories.

Which, while only so helpful, was good as far as Lance was concerned. It at least confirmed that Keith’s memories were there somewhere. Keith just needed help getting to them.

But as Lance bid Keith goodnight after making him promise not to prank any of them or go through his stuff, Lance once again found himself unable to escape the tug of sadness and concern in his gut. The incessant reminder that Keith, the newest addition to Lance’s small circle of those he called friends. Who had been childhood buddies with Pidge and who had a big brother he couldn’t quite remember. Who was awkward and funny, grumpy and sarcastic, cute and kind and-

What.

No.

Not going there. Lance told himself, lightly ramming his forehead against his bedroom wall to punctuate the overwriting of those last couple thoughts.

Keith was dead. A ghost. Something had happened and he had died. Something that neither he nor Pidge seemed to know anything about. And until Pidge’s brother responded with more information, hopefully including Keith and his brother’s full names at the very least, they wouldn’t have any way of finding out what had happened.

Lance wasn’t even sure he wanted to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tadaa! Sorry this one took a little longer. Updates might start slowing a little from here on out, but I'll try my best to keep them relatively frequent!
> 
> Anyway, I love these dorks. I hope this was a fun chapter for you!! And as always, please let me know what you think!!
> 
> AND AAHHH!!! SEASON 3 IS ALMOST HERE!!!!!!


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